


Lightning's Kiss

by drunkraiinbow



Category: The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, Boys In Love, ColdFlash Week 2019, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, How Do I Tag, M/M, Scar-Worshipping, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-26 03:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20735534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkraiinbow/pseuds/drunkraiinbow
Summary: There is a reason, why Len always wears long-sleeved turtleneck sweaters.And Barry is about to find out, why.





	Lightning's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is for ColdFlash Fall Week 2019 Day 7 - free prompt. I couldn't make the other days because I had too much going on in my life, but I wanted to write at least one fic, so here we are!  
Beta-read by the lovely [GavotteAndGigue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GavotteAndGigue/).

It never occured to Barry that Len was wearing the turtleneck sweaters to hide his skin, shielding his body under tight knitting and the long sleeves and coats he had waiting in his closet.  


That Len didn't wanted to have sex had been not so surprising news after his boyfriend had constantly turned him down, breaking heated kisses and too intimate touches, wiggling out of Barry's grasp whenever Len decided it went beyond his limits. Barry had simply assumed Len didn't like to feel his skin as well, didn't like to spoon him without a thin layer of clothing, always a shade between grey and light blue between them.  


And it would have been okay! Barry didn't mind Len's sexuality, nor did he miss or particularly need the sex. Having Len with him, knowing that the man loved him was so much more than he had ever hoped for.  


Changes had not been high, that a relationship between the Flash and Captain Cold would work, but Len had started to use his talents for crime-fighting more often, and so far he seemed to enjoy it enough to ditch the heists for a while.

All in all, it was a pleasant surprise when Len came to bed that night, fresh out of the shower in nothing but a small towel wrapped around his waist. He didn't bother looking at Barry (who was already sitting in bed and biting his lip to suppress a grin, but succeeded only halfway) as he opened the closet to get some underwear.  


"I can feel your grin, Scarlet," Len told him slowly, He let his towel fall to the ground before he changed into his boxer briefs. "Never seen a man before?"  


"I'm allowed to enjoy the view," Barry pouted, waiting for the sweatshirt to follow. "Though I'd prefer to look at you in the morning. I can barely see anything."  


Len snorted and turned around, lips curled up in a tiny smile. To Barry's surprise, he closed the doors to the wardrobe and strode through the wide bedroom towards the bed. "I'd prefer to keep it dark for now. Get comfortable first."

Barry was about to open his mouth, not understanding what was wrong, when he saw it. A ray of moonlight peeking through the dark curtains, illuminating Len's pale skin and the white marks on it—small and big and sometimes even and straight but more often than not raised and misshapen.  


Len was covered in scars.  


"Weak moments leave ugly scars," Len said without his usual sarcasm and laid down next to Barry, pulling the covers over his body.  


"You're not weak nor ugly," Barry disagreed with a frown. The turtleneck sweaters finally made more sense, though he didn't know how to process it for a second. "And neither are your scars."  


"Why does that sound like a lie," Len whispered but slipped closer, opening his arms to welcome Barry's head against his shoulder and Barry's fingers on his naked skin.  


Barry sighed softly, a smile on his lips when he let his fingers wander over the marks, exploring the memories Len seemed to hate so much. A few scars were definitely from battle. A bullet in his right shoulder, the cut of a sharp knife over his stomach, a few accidental burns from Mick.

"It sounds like a lie, because you're getting paranoid over it," Barry told Len, shushing him, when he heard the sharp inhale of his boyfriend preparing to disagree. "These scars only show that you're stronger than you think you are."  


"Moments of weakness," Len managed to say before Barry groaned and pressed his lips to Len’s, shutting his mouth up.  


Kisses were good, he had learned. Sucking and licking on Len's bottom lip was good. Sticking his tongue down Len's throat was not so good, but he didn't need to, because Len leaned into the kiss for a moment, held the tender touch of their lips.  


When he pulled back, he looked softly at Barry.   


"I take it you're not sharing my opinion."  


"Not at all," Barry nodded and continued caressing his skin. "They’re a part of you, just as my scars are a part of me. But that doesn't mean I'm weak. Neither are you."

Barry was fascinated by the scars, no matter how hard he tried to see them through Len's eyes. He wanted to know where he got them from, what stories they could tell him about the man he loved. At the same time, he didn't want to push Len, force him to talk about events he would rather not remember yet, or not at all.  


Still, he wanted Len to know that scars were okay. That it only showed how long he had already lived, how much he had survived. Seeing the round burn scars of cigarettes was proof enough of Len's hard life.  


"Is it okay to tell me more about them?" Barry finally asked and pressed his body closer to Len's, resting his head on his shoulder. "The ones you're comfortable talking about?"  


Len bit down on his bottom lip and rubbed his fingers over Barry's cheek as he often did, but nodded slowly. Barry smiled at him, leaning into the touch and sighed happily.  


"Those," Len began, pointing at several small scars on his chest, "are from a heist in Star City. I got caught in a wire and was attacked by crows."  


Barry choked on a laugh when he saw Len raising a brow at the amused sounds. "I'm sorry. I'll stay serious," he promised hastily.

"No, you won't," Len replied with a smirk and turned his gaze to look at his upper body, scanning the different scars and stories.  


He pointed at a thick scar on his waist. "Appendix operation."  


Len spent the next couple of minutes explaining a variety of scars on different spots all over his body as Barry listened closely.  


With some, he had ripped his skin open trying to sneak through tiny spaces as a child. With others, he had taken one or two hits during a fight, only to find his skin had burst later.

Then there were more bullet wounds. On his thighs, his arm, and a particularly deep and bulky scar from a sharp boomerang.

A strange, pointy scar over his sternum was Lisa's fault, when she had thrown a diamond at him, angry about a heist he had pulled without her, accidentally hitting him with the sharp tip. She was still sorry.  


"But I have a favourite scar," Len suddenly said and raised his left arm, holding Barry close on his right side. "I wouldn't recommend getting one yourself, though."  


Barry gasped when the moonlight hit Lens arms and he saw it. A fine construct of red lines under his skin running down from his shoulder to his wrist, almost like the branch of a tree, parting in smaller and smaller lines until they disappeared.

A Lichtenberg figure.  


"You've gotten struck by lightning!" Barry gasped and the awe disappeared when a horrible thought crossed his mind. "Please tell me it wasn't– Was it my fault?"  


Len blinked in surprise before he seemed to understand and shook his head, laughing softly.  


"I was sixteen, Scarlet," he explained and cupped Barry's cheek with his big palm, thumb stroking over Barry's skin. Len was warm, despite his affinity for the cold.

"It's not my fault then?" Barry asked for reassurance and snuggled closer, seeking the comfort of Len's closeness.  


"No," Len confirmed, kissing Barry's lips tenderly. "Ever since I saw you running like a flash, I knew the lightning had chosen me to be with you."  


Another kiss was placed on Barry's lip, and this time, Barry leaned forward, pulling the covers over their bodies before he laid his arm over Len's chest, holding onto him tight.

"I love you, Len."  


It was silent for a moment. Barry was used to it. Len had never actually said the words, just smiled or kissed him when Barry had declared his love. He was used to the silence by now, because he knew, deep inside, that Len loved him back.  


With a soft purr, he pressed his nose against Len's collar bone, breathing in Len's scent deeply, not expecting the deep hum forming in Len's throat.  


He didn't understand what Len was saying. Barry blinked at first, frozen in his lover's arms, until a smile spread over his lips and a familiar warmth filled his chest.  


"I love you, Barry Allen." 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave me a kudos or a comment to let me know! <3  
Find me on [tumblr](https://drunkraiinbow.tumblr.com/) and talk to me about the boys!


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